The Long Road Home
by Stretch
Summary: The threat from the outside world has become too much. For the students' own safety, Xavier has decided to close the school, and send the kids back home. But what's a mutant teen supposed to do in a world that didn't want them in the first place?
1. Prologue

**_"Here's to the nights we felt alive_**

**_Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry_**

**_Here's to goodbye_**

**_Tomorrow's going to come to soon…"_**

-Eve 6

* * *

Paige 'Husk' Guthrie:

Jubilee was just about to turn the big 16. She was three days away from the milestone I'd passed just a short 4 months earlier when the announcement was made. It was finally happening.

Saying that it was a total surprise would've been lying. We'd all had this…this feeling lately, this sinking sensation that occurred every time someone turned on the news or picked up a paper in the morning. There were riots outside courthouses and urban strongholds. Murdered Jane and Jon Does with scales or glowing eyes or enlarged cerebrums were turning up in garbage trucks and dark alleys on an almost daily basis. A new group calling themselves the Friends of Humanity were stirring up trouble across the country, and sending the school strange shaped envelopes on a daily basis. Scott never opened 'em. He and Logan just took them straight into the Danger Room and blew them up. But the point was that tension was mounting, anger was swelling. And Magneto had been right: a war was coming.

Hell, it was practically on top of us!

Personally, part of me believed that the whole point of Xavier's school was just to make sure that we students wouldn't be the catalysts behind such hostilities. And he'd succeeded, we hadn't been. Mission accomplished…and now we were being sent away.

Scott called us all together that evening, to talk about what was going on and what decisions had been reached, yada yada yada. But in a school full of telepathic teens and super-hearing nothing stayed a secret for long. We all gathered in the lounge that night fully aware of what events had already transpired…and where we were going.

Upstairs in room 4 the closet and chest of drawers were already empty. The two twin beds were stripped of their sheets. They now bore only packed suitcases and duffel bags. More so on Jubilee's bed than mine, but the effect was the same.

"I…we've called you all here tonight to talk about something very important," Scott said as he leaned against the arm the antique couch. None of us had seen him so grim since before Jean had come back to us. She was strangely absent from his side as he spoke to us that night, so I could only assume that she was keeping counsel with the Professor. I think it would've been good for Scott to have had her beside him right then, because he looked awful. Behind the mask of his glasses I imagined that his eyes held as much sadness as ours did. And why shouldn't they have? I mean, he'd been a student here as well. This was like the loss of his livelihood, his life.

But, then again, it wasn't as if he had to leave. The X-Men were still staying on in their capacity as protectors of mutant kind and innocents around the world. Still continuing on their noble quest, but they would no longer be teachers, mentors to a younger generation. Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters would be nothing more than a memory.

It was a somber group that night in the commons room , even excluding Scott. Kitty was cuddling against Piotr on the same couch Scott was precariously balancing against. Her eyes were red and swollen underneath a layer of off-colored makeup. This was even worse for the two of them than it was for the rest of us. Tomorrow Piotr and Illyana would be foreigners with student visas…but no school to be students at. They would have no choice but to return home to Russia, a few million miles away from where Kitty would be in Chicago. At least I'd have Sam going home with me, I wouldn't be completely alone.

I'd just feel like I was.

Jubilee looked distant, hollow where she laid on the floor next to Rhane and Illyana. Tracy was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch, sandwiched between Jamie and…another Jamie. Despite the fact they were going to be separated, those two…three, whatever…were better off than most of the students here: they were going back to families that wanted them. True, Jamie's was in Montana and Tracy's dad was currently on Muir Island off the coast of Scotland, but it was still something.

Rogue had sank down into an armchair as far as she could go, her gloved hand tightly latched onto Bobby's, who sat on the wide arm rest of the recliner. They both started off into the distance, as if looking at something we couldn't see. Remy, who'd gone through two packs of cigarettes since he'd heard the news, looked nothing like the charming Cajun pain in the ass he usually was. Like Jubilee, he seemed to have lost the humor that made him who he was. He leaned against the wall and flipped the jack of clubs absently between his fingers. And Sam…well Sam knew what lay in store for him back home, we both did. And we both would have given anything to avoid it by staying here…where we belonged.

"There's…there's no easy way to say this," Scott continued, looking helplessly over at Ororo, who sat, poised as always, across from me at a large library table.

"But due to recent events, circumstances beyond our control," Storm explained, a well-masked quiver in her voice, "the Professor, myself, and the rest of the staff have decided that the best thing for you is all is that we close the school." There was a giant pause after she finished speaking, as if even the school itself was waiting with baited breath for the student's reaction.

If that was so than we under whelmed them.

We'd all gotten our reactions out of our systems earlier; we'd prepared for this moment all day. Our tears had been cried, our yells echoed across the empty courtyard, and our goodbyes had been said. Now we were just relishing in our final moments together…as a family.

Tomorrow we'd all scatter back to the corners of the globe from which we'd come, as if the last days, months, years of our lives had never existed.

The next morning Jubilee got into a taxi bound for LAG. Kitty, Tracy, Jamie, Artie, and assorted others piled in behind her. Jean drove Bobby to the bus station that afternoon just as Tracy, Rhane, Roberto, Piotr, and Illyana left for JFK. And that evening Sam, Remy, Rogue, and myself boarded a train in Grand Central Station bound for the south.

And as we all watched New York fade from view out the window, I think we all agreed that this was easily one of the worst days of our lives.

* * *

A/N: Hey everyone. This idea came to me in the middle of my sociology final on Friday and I spent the last to afternoons trying to make it a reality. I wanted to show you the X-Kids in the real world, out on their own without the protection of the school and the X-Men. This is my way of doing it. Each chapter will chronicle a particular ex X-Kid and what happened to them. Where is this story going? I don't really know. I guess we'll all just have to wait and see (including me) Oh, and btw, Sam and Paige Guthrie ARE NOT OC's! I've been asked that so many times it's not funny anymore. Neither has a role in the movie, but they were in the past and still are, pretty prominent young X-Men. Sam got his start in the original New Mutants book, while Paige started out in Generation X with Jubilee. You can read more about them here: www. Just click on the Life Sciences button at the top of the page, then click on Cerebra's files, then look for Sam under 'C' for Cannonball and Paige under 'H' for Husk. Now, go and review so I can see if this story's moving in the right direction ;) 


	2. Torn In Pieces

**_"Now this angry little girl  
Drowning in this pretty world  
Oh who you run to"_**

-Goo Goo Dolls

* * *

Jubilation 'Jubilee' Lee:

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me," I sang softly. When I closed my eyes I could almost imagine that instead of sitting in a drippy bathroom, my back pressed against a cold tile wall, I was sitting in the kitchen back…back home, surrounded by people. They'd all be singing to me, 'course Tracy's voice would be the loudest but I'd be able to hear 'em all. Then I'd blow out the candles on one of Ororo's specially made cakes, the good kind with the banana cream inside and the sugar roses. Everyone would have cards for me, Paige and Kitty, a few of the others would have gifts. Remy would pretend that he'd forgotten to get a gift and then he'd try to kiss me to, in his words, 'make up fo' mah forgetfulness'. And then, when all was said and done, Jean would haul me into the jeep that all the students learned in and make me drive to the DMV so we could get my license. That was the part of this birthday I was really looking forward to: driving, freedom. I'd even had little rip-away calendar tacked on the cork board in mine and Paige's room that was counting down the days until that the big 16. Bobby had an identical one in his room too, only instead of saying **Days 'Till License** his read **Days X-Kids Have Left To Live**. Then we'd finish off the night with a fireworks display like none other, provided by yours truly…with a little help from Scott and Remy of course.

But then I opened my eyes and the chaotic events of the past few days come rushing back to me. And I wasn't sitting in the warm kitchen of 1607 Graymalkin Lane, I was leaning against the wall of a bathroom at Holy Savior's Home for Children. And I wasn't listening to a chorus of my friends singing to me on my special day, I was listening to my own off-key voice echo around my cramped surroundings. And there was no birthday cake, no candles. Just a mini-Snickers bar with a 4th of July sparkler that I'd stolen from the festivities outside and stuck in it.

"Happy birthday Jubilation…"

No cards, no gifts, no kiss from Remy, no Jean, no license, no fireworks display. Nothing.

"…happy birthday to me." I wrapped my palm around the sparkler, delighting at the brief pain I felt from it until I watched a thin ripple of smoke curl out from beneath my fingers and waft lazily towards the ceiling. I didn't eat the Snickers, instead I stood up and tossed the whole mess in the garbage. I was about to walk out the door when I caught sight of my reflection in the full length mirror screwed to the back of the door. I hardly recognized myself, but it wasn't just the shorter hair. It was my entire…presence, I guess.

The girl looking back at me seemed to have aged years in the past 48 hours. Scott used to say that I had a hundred-watt smile, Paige used to say that my body naturally produced enough caffeine to keep a Starbucks worth of coffee addicts happy for a year. But there was none of that sparkle, not a trace of that light in those blue eyes looking back at me. They were hard, cold, unmoving in their gaze. It was like I'd hidden the old Jubilee underneath a mask, and the girl looking back was the result of her parent's death and year spent in detention centers and orphanages like this. Of course, the ugly purple and black bruise around my right eye didn't help my image either. I guess coming back here re-awakened that awful part of me I'd buried so long ago. That's right, _back_ here. Holy Savior's was the first place they sent me after I arrived home from school one day to find my parents dead on the floor. And it was the place Xavier decided to send me back to when he closed down the only other place I'd ever called home. He said that this was for my own good, that I'd be able to blend in here, to stay safe. Truth was the Professor had no idea what really went on here.

My first days at Holy Savior's were an eye opening experience, but kind of like learning to ride a bike, they were something I would never forget. Life inside these group homes can only be described as primal. It's kill of be killed, and there's a definite hierarchy that you have to answer to. That system was one of the reasons I ran away from this place almost two years ago. But I was older now, and I'd been training in self defense and gymnastics for two years under the watchful eyes of some of the toughest fighters in the world. And I knew what to expect this time around. I wasn't going to run away, and I proved that last night around 2 am.

Two years ago when I was twelve on the cusp of thirteen I'd gotten the snot kicked out of me by a seventeen year old girl named Toyesha and the rest of her crew. Think of it as an initiation ceremony here at Holy Savior's (and every other home across the country). I wound up with a broken hand, various cuts across my body, bruised ribs, etc. But most importantly I lost all of my dignity that night in order to avoid a harsher beating. Last night I was going to do no such thing.

It was easy to spot the alpha female here in the girl's wing; I picked her out the moment I arrived back. Her name was Dominica, but her cronies called her Dom. Unlike Toyesha so many years ago, Dom strength didn't lie in the support of her followers (although she had plenty of those). This girl was physically packing it as well. 6'1" easy, broad shoulders, a little large around the middle. Think Piotr with breasts…and minus the steel armor and all. Anyways, she gave me the evil-eye the minute I walked in, then she started talking real quietly to her girls. My orphan sense went off immediately, so I did my best the rest of the day to stay with the rest of the crowds of kids and well out of her way.

But I was on my own when darkness rolled around. And me, being me with my awful timing and whatnot, woke up around 2 am and had to use the bathroom. Just the kind of situation I was hoping to avoid; the bathroom was the prefect place to ambush someone. Then again, part of me was relieved to just get this whole mess out of the way. I wasn't going to be anyone's bitch this time around and I was eager to make that fact clear. So I quickly stood up and made for the hallway just outside the room. As I rose, I discreetly stuck a pair of cosmetic scissors under the elastic of my boxer shorts. I wasn't about to walk into that situation unarmed because surely the other girls wouldn't be.

Now I know what you're thinking. Jubilee, unarmed? What about those concussive exploding fireworks that you shoot out of your hands. Despite what you think, using those really would have been the death of me. The girls were just out to put some fear into the new girl, no big deal for them. But if I came out as a mutant chances were they'd try to kill me, and even if they didn't, what would happen the next day? I'd either get jumped by a bigger group, or someone would tell the staff and I'd get tossed out on the streets…probably without any of my things. And that just wasn't an option, especially with the last remnants of my parents and friends lying in the bottom of my duffle bag. So I brought scissors. Besides I'd spent the better part of the last two years dodging lasers in the danger room and sparing with Ice-Pick (man, boy, whatever) and Colossus, so I could hold my own.

But anyways, back to that night. I slid into the school-style bathroom and walked quickly into a stall. A moment later heard the squeak of the balky door hinges once…twice…then a third time. They didn't say anything as they entered, but I watched the shadows of four or five different girls spread out on the dingy tile outside the stall.

_That's pretty stupid!_ I thought. _Like the squeaky door and their feet under the door didn't give away the fact that they were there? Why not say something!_

Still playing dumb, though, I did what I came to do (note to self: NO more water before bed!). Then I unlocked out the door and stepped outside, cool as you please. The five girls were spread out in front of me in a wide V, Dom at the point, a few feet in front of the stall door. Each of the girls was wearing an identical hard expression, their lips set, shoulders back. I met Dom's eyes, acting like I was neither surprised nor intimidated to see her, which I wasn't.

We glared at one another in silence for a moment or two. When she didn't make a move to come at me or speak, I shrugged like it was no big deal and tried to shove past her, towards the sink. That's when her butcher block arm shot out, slamming into my right shoulder and propelling me, off balanced, back into the side wall of the stall. The fiberglass panel connected with my spine in a wave of pain…and that pissed me off.

I grabbed the swinging door in my hands and steadied myself. Dom took another swing at me, but this time I was ready. I ducked and her arm sailed neatly over me. For a split second Dom stared at her outstretched arm as if trying to figure out just how she'd missed. Oh yeah, she was a quick one, this girl. Finally she seemed to comprehend just what had happened and she returned her attention to me. As if operation on some silent command, all the other girls suddenly moved in closer, blocking any attempts to escape to the side. And then, when everyone was settled, Dom decided to confirm my initial impressions about her: that she was slower on molasses on a cold day.

She opened her mouth.

"Look here, new bitch," she hissed leaning in close. Not a good thing, the girl hadn't used a breath mint in a while. Two words, hun: Tic Tac! "We got some rules 'round here that you better get used to."

"Gee really?" I quipped back, leaning back casually against the support panel between two stall doors. "And here I thought this was a welcoming party." From the blank look that played across Dominica's eyes, I assumed that she didn't get the joke. Then she sucker punched me in the gut!

Okay, so she really didn't get the joke.

In all reality I should've seen that blow coming, but I was too busy trying to be a smart ass. Wouldn't make that mistake again. As I was doubled over, staring at my bare feet while I tied to catch my breath I felt an arm slide across my shoulders. Good girl; I'd figured this was Dom's next move.

She'd sidled up next to me and slid her arm around me neck, grabbing the front of my throat in her bare hand. This position gave her a lot of leverage, as she pulled me tight against her hip. I didn't fight against her as she did this. I allowed her to straighten my supine body upright, somewhat painfully, and I winced just the right amount as I felt her hot breath on the side of my face.

"Chica, you just entered a world of hurt," she whispered serpent-like into my ear. I saw red instantly. It wasn't the threat, or the fact that she was slowly cutting off my air. She'd called me Chica. My nickname…my old nickname. In hindsight her saying that was really just a coincidence, due probably to Dom's Hispanic heritage. But that night it didn't matter. I was irrational and angry, and that name just kept circling in my head. She couldn't call me that! No one here could call me that! Nothing gave her that right! She couldn't know the old Jubilee, I wouldn't let her. I wouldn't let her tarnish and torment the only good part of me left. I wouldn't!

I growled, low and feral. Primal. Then I used my left hand to drive the scissor into the flesh of her thigh. That was what I'd been planning from the moment she'd grabbed me, but I did it with more force that I knew I had. Then I twisted them. Dom screamed and her arm fell away from my throat. The influx of air that followed fueled my fire. As Dom fell back against the wall of a stall, starring in disbelief at where the blood pooled from her leg, I leapt out, clawing at her face, her neck, her eyes. Her minions watched as their mighty fell and then seemed to stunned to move. This hadn't ever happened before. They were lost, pawns without a leader, bees without a queen.

They looked on in horror as Dom continued to screech as my sharp nails bit into every bit of soft flesh I could find. Finally Dominica managed tot rally her troops.

"Get the bitch," she called out through the pain I was inflicting on her.

All hell broke lose then. I was jumped from more directions than I could count. Almost instantly I found myself on my back, looking up at the bodies raining down around me. I shot my legs out blindly and I felt them both make contact with soft flesh, but whose I didn't know. Then the girl I'd marked as the brain's behind Dom's leadership, a squat blonde chick, squatted down on top of my ribcage. Before I could blink she'd drawn back her fist clocked me across the face, making the hardest contact along my right brow ridge. I tasted blood as it flowed freely from my nose, and it sent a surge of adrenaline flooding into my system. I need this, I wanted this. I had a lot of anger that I'd built up at the world over the years. These girls were going to help me deal with it.

In a flash of insight, I planted my feet onto the ground and shot my chest up as hard as I could, like I was going to go into a bridge. The movement sent the blonde crashing to the floor on my left. This sudden twist of events surprised the girl pinning my hands down enough that I wrenched them from her sweaty grasp without much difficulty. With my limbs momentarily freed, I was on my feet as fast as I could get there. But the girls were reassembling.

Wiping my hand along my upper lip, it came away bloody. I stared at the deep crimson liquid for a moment, transfixed. Then my eyes shot back to the tramps around me. I saw blood on the faces of some, bruises swelling purple on others. I'd done enough damage to surprise them. Suddenly the assembled group split right down the center and a limp Dom hobbled through the space they'd made. Blood was flowing profusely down her leg from the deep gash I'd put in her thigh. Hey, I didn't feel guilty. After all, who attacked who here?

"You," she muttered between gritted teeth. "You just made the biggest mistake of your life, whore!" Those were big words and nothing more. For a moment I'd been worried that Dom was just having her troupe regroup for round two, but after one look at her face I knew she wasn't up to it. In unison, the group turned to leave, the blonde helping Dominica limp towards the door. I just stared at them until Dom's hand touched the handle. Then I finally called out.

"I told you, I'm no ones bitch. You'd do good to remember that!" The hulking girl froze, so I knew she'd heard me, but she never turned. After a moment of pause, they all piled out the door.

But we all knew that the line in the sand had been drawn.

All alone in the ransacked bathroom, I felt suddenly drained as the adrenaline rush wore off. Panting hard, I slid down the wall and pulled my knees tight to my chest. I wrapped my arms around them and rocked myself back and forth slightly as pain coursed through my body. I hadn't taken a beating like this in a long time. My vision was blurry as my right eye started to swell shut, and there was a searing pain in my head that I hadn't noticed during the fight. Slowly I ran my hand over the top of my scalp until I felt bare skin meet the flesh of my fingertips. That must have been how they'd dragged me off Dom, by my hair. One of the girls had ripped away a chunk of my scalp in the process it seemed, taking out the handful of hair all the way to the roots. I glanced around and sure enough there was a tendril of long, glossy hairs attached to a piece of bloody scalp lying underneath one of the stalls. I left it there as I finally hauled myself back to bed.

So yeah, the next morning I returned to the bathroom and chopped off my ponytail with my scissors, which I'd found in the bathroom sink today. I cleaned them off first. I'd given myself a little forelock that was ¾ the length of the rest of my hair. I'd done the rest of it into a little Bob style, and it now fell to just below my ears. It also covered up the bare patch in the back pretty well. Maybe it was my imagination, but it made me look older, and it seemed fitting. I mean, I was starting a new year of my life. What better time for a change, eh? I guess sometimes the changes are just both good and bad.

But as I left the bathroom I had the sinking feeling that this year wasn't going to be near as nice at the last.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think, eh" No, don't start talking to me, just hit the little purple button right down there and tell me! 


	3. Won't Do This Anymore

**_"Left on an eastbound train  
Gone first thing this morning  
Why's what's best for you  
Always the worst thing for me?"  
_**

-Nickelback

* * *

Bobby 'Iceman' Drake: 

There was a branch digging into my ass, but then I guess that's one of the many disadvantages to hiding in a patch of evergreen bushes.

I know what your thinking: "Um, Bobby…why exactly are you hiding in a patch of bushes?" Simple, because hiding in the bushes outside my house was a hundred times easier than going inside.

See, before we'd left the school I'd lied to the Scott. I'd told him that I'd been communicating with my parents for months now, despite what had happened last time I'd been home. You know, with Pyro and the police and the giant SR-71 landing on the front lawn and all. But that's old news. Anyways, I assured him that my parents would be happy to have me home and that, I'd already arranged to have them pick me up from the bus station.

Good thing the Cyclops wasn't a pyrokinetic, or my pants would have seriously been on fire. That's how big a liar I was.

The truth: I hadn't spoken to my parents in months, I'd sent several e-mails that never got responses, called several times but no one ever picked up, even sent my brother a birthday card that got 'returned to sender, address unknown,' a few weeks later. But what other choice did I have? I was 18, so they couldn't send me off to some children's home, like Jubes, and with Rhane and Tracy both going to the Muir Island facility the Professor was hesitant to send anyone else there. He thought It'd make too tempting a target of us all. I'd been accepted to a few different universities around here, but it was the middle of summer. So that left me with two options: go home and risk ending up on my own, or let the Professor stick lock me in a safehouse or something. No, I'd rather make my own decisions. So I walked the fifteen blocks from the bus station. And…well, you know the rest: home, bushes, the whole deal.

"C'mon, Iceman, you can do this," I hissed under my breath. "Your typical day included dodging laser beams and fireworks. You can certainly walk up to your own front door and ring the bell." But by the time I finished talking to myself like a psycho, I was already there, staring into the formidable wall of glass and white wood that separated me from my family.

At least I wasn't in my underwear this time…and accompanied by a feral wild man from Canada…who was hell-bent on drinking the last of my father's beer. But all those factors really didn't make this any easier. 'Jesus, look at me! This shouldn't be so hard,' I thought to myself. Any other kid home from college or school would just walk right up and eagerly pound down the door. Then again, they probably weren't responsible for the destruction of half their parents' house and endangering the life of seven officers of the state police. 'Fine,' I told myself as I stood there on my own front porch looking like a complete dilhole. 'You can just live in your parents' bushes for the rest of your life. No TV, no phone to call Rogue, and up to your eyeballs in snow from November through April.' That thought got me moving. I focused my gaze on the doorbell.

"Alright, don't get cold feet. You can do this…" I stuck out my finger out. "I can do this." I moved my finger forward slightly. Then I froze.

My father was standing at the end of the entrance hallway, staring at me through the window.

"Shit."

Our eyes locked for a moment while my heart moved into my throat. His face was expressionless as he just stared. Then his mouth moved. I couldn't hear him through the thick glass of the door, but I didn't need to to know what he said.

"Bobby?"

"I've…we've been trying to reach you for months," my dad said, sitting down in his usual arm chair. There was a moment of awkward silence before my father waved a hand, gesturing for me to sit down on the couch. It was terrible, I felt like a stranger in my own home. I plopped down ungracefully. "But every time I called that number you gave us I got a girl that said you didn't want to speak to me." I groaned, knowing exactly what had happened.

"Did she answer the phone 'Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters: you freak 'em, we geek 'em?'" Dad nodded his head slightly, looking a little frazzled. And who could blame him?

"Yeah, uh…well something like that." He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips. It reassured me, catching a glimpse of my father's humorous side. It was the side of him I'd grown up with. "Why?" There could one explanation for my forty or so missed phone calls.

"Her name's Jubilee and has…had a tendency for putting words into people's mouths. Sorry?" I shrugged. Jubilee had better be thanking her lucky stars right now that there was an entire country between her and me or I swear to God she'd have woken up to a dresser stuffed with Spam.

What, you don't think I'd do it. Trust me, I was quite the prankster when I set my mind to mayhem. Dad looked slightly confused though still.

"What about those e-mails we sent?" he asked again. I was noticing a serious pattern here. Kitty knew more about the school computers than Dr. McCoy and the Professor combined. Kitty once hacked through three NSA firewalls. Kitty created my e-mail account for me.

The females of the school were out to get me.

"Uh…yet another chick with too much free time," I responded, my face buried in my sweaty hands.

"I take it then that you didn't get the birthday card we sent you?" And Rogue collecting the mail makes three.

"No," I confessed. "I didn't." We continued to stare doubly at one another, wondering how to act, what to say to kill the tension.

"So…uh, school's closed for good then?"

Okay, so my dad wasn't the best when it came to tension killing.

I looked him over as I nodded to answer his question. I don't know, maybe it was just me, but Dad seemed to have aged years in the brief eight months since I'd seen him last. His face was worn, eyes sunken and dark. He had more gray hair than before. And I knew that what I'd done to him, what I'd put my family through was probably to blame. I realized with a start that I was staring and quickly found something else to look at. Just so happened that it was the sliding glass door the police had stormed through during our last visit.

"You fixed it, huh?" I muttered to fill the ominous silence growing between my father and I. Wish I hadn't though, it just made the silence longer and more ominous. Dad coughed. I cleared my throat.

"So, where's your stuff?" he looked past me to the front porch.

"It's uh…" I'd almost said in the bushes, but I the last thing I needed right now was to have my Dad doubting my sanity. "…on the front porch. I'll just go and, you know, grab it."

"Yeah, okay," Dad nodded his head up and down, way to intent on the motion itself. "Good idea." More awkwardness, more silence as I walked softly down the hall and left him sitting in his chair. I shot through the door and felt as if all the pressure around me suddenly evaporated. Fresh air! I clunked down the wide porch steps, breathing deeply and trying to clear my head. I glanced around me. The old neighborhood looked exactly the same as it had before I'd left.

Mr. McCormick, the man who lived across the street, was watering his lawn in a pair of khaki shorts and tall, black socks, not to mention an Indiana Jones-ish hat. Yeah, he had worse taste in clothing than Remy and Sam combined, but that wasn't the point. The point was that in the time it took for me to haul my duffle, suitcase, and back pack from the tangled branches and barbs, McCormick had stopped watering and was now standing on his front porch, talking heatedly into his portable phone, glaring in my general direction. I could practically feel his eyes boring holes into me. I gave him a pathetic half wave as I hefted my bag onto my back. He scowled in my direction and stopped speaking. A minute later his screen door banged shut behind him as he retreated into his house.

"Jerk," I muttered. That man had once turned his hose on me when I was trick or treating at the age on 9. I mean, yes I was dressed as a convict with one of those little, plastic ball n' chains, but I was like 4' 9"! How could he have thought I was a real criminal! I stamped back into the house, dropping my stuff on the bottom landing of the stairs, just like I did every day after elementary school with my backpack. It was an unconscious gesture, one that surprised even me. Dad must have finally gotten himself out of the Laz-e-boy because I heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, and the sound of soft voices. A moment later I head the phone click down softly on the base.

"Dad?"

"Yeah," he called back. I walked into the kitchen and found him with his head buried in the refrigerator and the portable phone shoved into his back pocket.

"Who called?" He shut the door, chewing something, probably something he shouldn't have been. Dad's family had a history of high blood pressure, so Mom had kept him on a pretty strict, low fat, bran heavy diet since he hit forty. Dad had quite a knack for sneaking KFC into the house, disguising it as leftovers in the back of the fridge. Personally, Rony and I'd found it hysterical. It was nice seeing that he was still up to his old tricks.

"Yo'r mofer," he said thickly through his food.

"What?" I demanded, hopping up on the counter. Dad forced himself to swallow, then tried again.

"Your mother," he said again. That was the moment I realized that she was strangely absent, and so was my brother.

"Yeah, where are they anyways?" I asked, leaning back against the side of the fridge as my Dad opened the door again and took another bite of his stash.

"Sh' an' Wony 'ent to 'ee her mofer."

"Can't understand you, Dad!"

"They went to see her mother for a few days," he said again, in that tone he always got when he mentioned his mother in law/Grandma who lived in Virginia. He shut the fridge door and leaned back against the sink, regarding me seriously. "She wanted to get Rony away from those friends of his for a few days. She…we think their a bad influence on him. We actually found a pack of cigarettes in his coat last week!" he said, shaking his head in a forlorn kind of way. "We thought a few days away might be good for him."

"So?" I asked, waving my hands out in front of me. When Dad shook his head, obviously not getting what I meant. "What did she say?" Another blank look.

"About what?" I dropped my raised arms into my lap in a sign of defeat.

"About what?" I repeated in a higher voice, slightly exasperated. "About me." Dad rubbed the back of his neck and suddenly found something outside the window very interesting. "Dad…"

"Okay, look sport, I didn't exactly tell her you were home," I opened my mouth to protest , but he held up a finger forestalling my protest. "No look, this is a bigger deal than you think, Bobby. What happened last time really hurt your mom. She's gonna be thrilled to have you home, but this is a big transition. I didn't want her worrying or cutting their trip short. They could both use the time away. They'll be home in about a week." He gave a weak smile. "Besides, you know what that means?" When I didn't say anything, he answered his own question. "We have the house to ourselves for an entire week. You thinking what I'm thinking?" I smiled, despite myself.

"Takeout?"

"Takeout," he confirmed.

We were sitting sprawled out on the couch that night. Dad had a Bud Lite in his hand and I was slouched down, my feet planted on the coffee table in front of me. Before us lay the remnants of a medium, meat-lovers, Chicago-style deep dish pizza.

There were very few remnants, coughcrumbscough left. I know, it's obscene the amount of food men can eat while watching ESPN Classics. I think I hit my pizza limit somewhere between the 1984 World Series and SuperBowl 29. Still, there was just something so…nice about being home again. I mean, Dad and I'd done stuff like this all the time when I was growing up. But doing it now, after everything that had happened…well, it was like a peace offering. Like I was being welcomed back into the fold.

It was comforting, and good thing to, because what happened next might have just crushed me.

I was busy contemplating whether or not going into the kitchen for a new, not –flat Dr. Pepper would be worth the effort it took to get there. Dad was looking as if he regretted that last slice of pizza and was debating whether or not to sending me into the kitchen for an antacid would be worth the effort it'd take to get me in there. That's when then motion sensor light on the front porch went off. No big deal, right? Except that it was about 1:30 in the morning.

…Okay, so my dad and I have a bad habit of utilizing the all-night pizzeria near Boston U. So sue me…us, whatever. Back to that night.

Both of us turned and looked over the back of the couch. I cocked an eyebrow and, strangely, saw the same look mirrored on my father's face when he glanced at me. When nothing moved outside after a few moments, he said what we were both thinking.

"Raccoon, maybe?" I shrugged, turning back towards the game, even though I knew how it ended.

"Raccoon, could've been a car on the street, who knows? That thing was always spastic." I shrugged again. Still…the little hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. Dad started flipping channels again as I turned back to the door. And that's when it exploded into a thousand glittering glass shards.

CCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH

"HOLY CRAP!" my dad exclaimed, flying off the couch like his ass was on fire. I was about a nano-second behind him. The temperature in the room had suddenly dropped like a rock; an unconscious reaction on my part. Dad didn't seem to notice that his breath was suddenly visible. After the sickening crash a sudden silence had spread over the house, perforated only by the sound of clinking glass as the few shards hanging from the doorframe continued to spiderweb and crack.

The two of us approached the door side by side, both of us staring in disbelief at what lay on the floor in front of us. It was a cinderblock, you know, those big industrial size kind with the big holes in the middle. And across the side of it someone had written in black chalk a single word. But I think it got the message across.

It said FREAK.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank you all for you comments and encouragement. I'm glad that you like this story so far. There's a few comments that I want to address: First, to the person who mentioned the R/B and Jubilee/Remy pairing- Most of you who know me know that I'm a huge classic Romy fan, but I figure that at least one of my stories should take place according to movie canon, so I'm giving R/B a shot. Besides, it's a great outlet for teen angst. As for a Jubilee/ Remy, I didn't mean to imply that. I was just portraying Remy as his usual, horn-dog, flirty self, going after all the ladies, including Jubes. It's not a bad idea though…maybe I'll use it for another story, just not this one. Sorry for the confusion. To the person who asked that I focus more on the characters from the movie- When focusing on the X-kids as opposed to the X-Men this seriously cuts down on the character numbers. The only X-Kids that have really been mentioned have been Rogue, Bobby, and John, but John's gone so that leaves two. So then I went to the cameo characters: Kitty, Piotr, Jubilee (who's scene was cut) and Tracy (Syrin), except that leaves you with too many girls. So I tossed in Remy, who's a likely for the next movie. But I still wanted a bigger cast. Well, Rhane and Jamie Madrox were mentioned in the movie novel, and Sam and Paige Guthrie were mentioned in the computer database in Deathstrike's office so I tossed them in too. And Illyana Rasputin, Piotr's little sister tops things off just cause I like her. So don't worry, I won't skimp on Bobby (as I've shown) and Rogue, but I needed the others to help me fill out my cast and make this the story I was thinking of. I'll try to be thorough on the other character's histories to help you guys out. Hopes this clears things up and won't deter you from reading, but thanks for bringing that factor to my notice, it deserved an explanation. Thanks again, and sorry for this essay of an author's note. Cheers…and don't forget to Review! 


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